Water Pipes and Other Utterly Romantic Things
by Lampazo
Summary: Sometimes even chores have unexpected benefits.


**Water Pipes, Contused Heels, and Other Utterly Romantic Things**

**Summary: **Sometimes even chores have unexpected benefits.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Naruto.

**Brilliant betaing:** by TaintedMoonlight.

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Shikamaru winced inwardly, slight irritation breaking his usual indifferent attitude. After a long day of working with the Suna representative in one the of stuffy rooms of the Hokage building, his habitual comfortable pullover had become fairly itchy, mostly in the middle of his back under his chuunin vest, and consequently, out of his reach. He cast a sidelong look at Temari; she was walking quietly next to him, smirking absentmindedly to herself, hands folded, and eyes focused idly at the sky. She didn't seem to be tired at all. They had almost arrived at her apartment, so assuming his calculations were right, he would be home and_ out_ of his troublesome vest in twenty minutes.

They stopped in front of her door and he was ready to say goodbye, when her eyes suddenly opened wide, as if recalling something important; she mumbled something to herself and stopped him from leaving. "Oi, Nara! Would you come inside? I need you as a man!"

Now not onlywere _his_ eyes open wide, but he was also sure that his brows had darted up somewhere near the hairline. 'As a man?!' Well, not that he minded, quite the opposite as a matter of fact, but right now, all of sudden?!

Temari grinned at his expression and waved her hand, laughing. "Try not to look so aggravated, Lazy; it's not that! My sink clogged up this morning, so I need someone to repair it, you know. " She looked away for a moment, slightly embarrassed, and added, much quieter this time, obviously not pleased with her next statement, "I have no idea what to do with this and you are supposed to help me with everything."

Shikamaru couldn't resist the urge to smirk. She loathed the mere idea of being incapable of something and was too proud to ask for someone's help most of the time, so having her in this position was quite priceless. His back was still itching, he was really tired in general, and, of course, helping would require some effort on his part, but all of that seemed like fading issues compared to the chance of showing her how accurate his man and woman theory was in the end. "Let's go, Woman, we'll try to see what you have done with your sink".

Temari tensed immediately and cocked her chin to the side. "I haven't done anything! It… just stopped pouring out water all of sudden."

Not bothering to say anything else, she entered her house, letting Shikamaru follow her steps. They stopped in a small hall for a moment – just long enough to take off their sandals, and then proceeded to the troubling sink. While following her, he couldn't help but marvel at how everything, even in antechamber, seemed to be touched by her invisible presence – from the custom suna-made carpet on the floor to the little folding screen in the corner, painted ably in many shades of her favorite purple.

They turned left, headed down the corridor until they reached a plain wooden door. She opened it and motioned for him to shuffle inside.

He had never imagined what her bathroom would look like, so he took the opportunity to observe it, while trying not to look too interested. Of course, he reminded himself, it wasn't really her house, but considering how often she had been visiting Konoha lately, it could very well be her own house. She stayed almost quarter of her time in Konoha and this house after all.

It was not too big. Grey tiles lined the floor and ivory ones on the walls. Bath, right to the door, decorated on its external side by smaller, but matching ivory tiles. Left to it, against the door, was the source of her problems: the sink, looking clean and innocent, with a single bottle of liquid (oil?) on the counter. More bottles rested on a shelf hanging above the sink – necessary ones like shampoo and some additional ones whose purpose he could only guess. Shikamaru appreciated the sparseness instantly – he had been in Ino's bathroom a couple of times, and it was _crammed – _stocked with various bottles, miscellaneous tubes, boxes and peculiar devices. His gaze drifted to the left wall, where, between line of suspending white (and one purple) towels, he caught a glimpse of something red and lacy hidden underneath. Blushing, Shikamaru averted his eyes instantly, trying not to imagine what the lacy thing _could_ be.

Trying to distract himself, he stepped closer to the sink and placed his hands on the sink counter, observing it thoughtfully. Temari, who'd been standing between him and the bath, leaned closer to look at the sink, so that she was peering from his shoulder, making him more than aware of her scent (hardly discernible and even more captivating because of it) and the fact that she was, indeed, a woman, and a woman with form.

He stared at their reflection in the mirror above the shelf, "Let's try the easiest way. Where is your plunger?"

"My what?" It was almost humorous how she seemed to be taken aback completely by such an ordinary question.

"I swear, you are the most undomesticated creature in this world. The plunger. Rubber thing with a stick in it" She cocked an eyebrow in confusion, and he sighed in defeat. – "Forget it. Where is your closet?"

The blonde shrugged, exited the bathroom and opened the next door. "Enjoy yourself."

Picking up the plunger, he decided, that it would be wise to take along a pipe spanner at once – who knew what she managed to do with poor sink. He might need it. "You _do_ understand that a lot of water can gush out of here, don't you?"

"You_ will_ try your best to prevent it, won't you?" She replied with dangerously sweet voice. Scary woman.

Moving back to bathroom, he grabbed the bottle from sink, noticing that the scent was similar to Temari's, just slightly different and more intense.

"Put down my perfume oil, you stalker."

He turned, showing his best expression of boredom, "Whatever princess wants. Keep in mind though, that I will be fixing the sink and it could break or spill…"

She grimaced. "Just give it to me, genius!"

Shikamaru gave her the bottle and unzipped his west, removing it, and noticing with pleasure, that the itch subsided instantly so that he could barely feel it anymore.

"As much as you enjoy stripping in front of me, could you make it less obvious?"

He could see Temari smirking in mirror, fingering the bottle in her hands. "As much as you enjoy watching me strip, could _you_ makeitless obvious?" He replied calmly, rolling up his sleeves, taking the plunger and putting it into the sink. He pushed it in three times and fully satisfied with deep sucking noise, he stepped two paces back, waiting for result.

Wasting no time, the owner of bathroom approached sink, looking down at it, "Why have you stopped?"

"Hell, Temari, move away, it can—"

Fair amount of water rushed out of the drain, shooting straight at Temari's chest.

Splash.

"—spill… Shit."

Slowly, painfully slowly, she turned, face pale, lips slightly open.

Part of him (the smaller part) was relieved that the water was clear; another (the bigger part) was readying himself to witness the explosion of pure violence sure to follow; and the last part (too big for his good) was registering, how cute she was, that is, if someone could actually call the waking volcano _cute_, with her wet bangs, surprised expression, and collarbone gleaming slightly from water, not to mention the mesmerizing view of her soaked kimono clinging to her breasts, pushing his mind into direction she would likely unappreciate.

He had cautioned her, but he knew better than to mention that to her.

"What. Was. It?" Her hissing tone would easily make little children cry.

"Just pure water -"

"Shut up." She closed her eyes, sighed deeply a couple of times, and grabbed one of the white towels. "Is it fixed?"

He rubbed his neck uncomfortably, "Actually, no. It was like a test…"

"Go ahead." She growled, and stormed out of the bathroom.

Well, for now he was safe.

He figured it was probably best to preoccupy himself, so that when she came back, it would serve as his protection. _Maybe_ she would unwind a little, not that he counted on it.

Shikamaru sighed and kneeled down, observing the sink from all sides. Temari would be furious if there another _drop_ of water poured out, not to count the current small puddle between sink and bath. Looking around, he noticed a small tap in the corner of bathroom. That must be it. Turning it off, he tried to open the cold faucet in sink – nothing. Good, it would be too troublesome to go and search for water-blocking tap if it were situated elsewhere. Carefully, so as not to drop it, he removed the hand basin, revealing intersections of drains and pipe plugs beneath it.

So, what could be wrong with it? Gradually, he turned off the top sleeve and twisted it in hands. Slightly shabby, but nothing improper. Shrugging to himself, he put it aside, and directed his attention to the knee pipe.

"Any progress, Nara?"

Oh, here we go. "Trying to clarify the problem." He turned to face her, and was at first met by a clear view of well-shaped knees. She traded her long kimono for plain black shirt, tied by a white sash, and short skirt – something that she must consider a home outfit. Her four ponytails were gone, replaced by one low and a little messy ponytail; even her hitai-ite was removed. It seemed, at the very least, that she was not going to massacre him, not yet, anyway. Instead, she just stepped toward bath (well, now she definitely knew better, than to pry) and seated herself carefully on its edge so that she was to the right of him.

"It seems that you are trying to destroy my sanitary engineering, rather than fix it" Temari rested her elbows at knees, drew out her legs and leaned in a little.

"Have a little patience, woman."

"Not my fault that you are lazy enough to kill my patience". Very Temari-like, never letting him have the last word. Answering her would be too… well, troublesome and useless. So he just rolled his eyes in response and resumed previous activity, examining the pipes, whilst trying not to peek at her delicate ankles and small feet which were tapping idly next to his right knee.

She certainly had nice ankles, smooth and thin, with teasing tiny bones. He could easily imagine kissing these bones, tracing his tongue into small hollow near them, tightening his grip around these ankles while… Whoa, calm _down_. He glanced at her, almost guiltily relieved to see that she wasn't paying attention to him, rather she was staring somewhere at the wall, probably still little mad at him.

Back to drains. That's right. He knocked the biggest one with pipe spanner couple of times – judging by dull sound he figured something was stuck there, , so that he had to carefully take apart three upper parts of pipe, and then remove the stopper, whatever it was. Shikamaru was so concentrated on turning the first one, that he nearly gasped in surprise when several minutes later something small and round landed on the small of his back. Temari's heel.

She lifted one eyebrow, responding on his uncomprehending stare. "What?! I'm bored. My leg is nearly numb, you know. You've been fixing this sink for ages" She stretched her leg and situated it more comfortably, apparently feeling zero awkwardness and clearly not noticing his caused, in addition to other reasons, by the excellent exposition of her hip.

Shikamaru asked himself how he got in this situation at the first place. Because here he was, repairing her sink after an exhausting day of work, with her foot on his back, with her _complaining_ on his slowness in fixing her sink, _and_ with her being almost irritatingly attractive all at the same time. He was cursed. The only positive result of this was the end of his itching – her foot got rid of it, even if accidentally.

The first part of pipe was already separated and lying on the floor, and he was busy turning the second one, when the constant pressure on his back was replaced by rhythmic poking to his side. It seemed that Temari was counting his ribs with her toe, now _that _was troublesome.

"Do you feel less bored when you're touching me?" He asked nonchalantly, not averting eyes from slowly rotating drain. Even without actually seeing her, he could tell she was smirking.

"You wish. Touching you doesn't entertain me at all," She leaned in to him suddenly, so close that he could feel her warm breath wafting across his ear, and touched the back of his neck so gently it was barely noticeable, "Is there any way to fix it _quickly_, _Shikamaru_?"

He felt a traitorous shiver crawl down his spine. Apparently, her touching him _could_ entertain at least one of them.

"Well, if you want it to be finished so badly, woman…" he had thought about it previously, and deemed it an inappropriate use of the technique, which took years of practice to master (months in his case, but who counts?), not to mention that the whole action was troublesome, of course. But then again, he doubted that his nervous system would appreciate his continued dealings with Temari in such close proximity.

Not bothering to get up from the floor, he took a familiar stance and performed three seals. His shadow, firm from upper light, darkened, vibrated, and took the form of a hand. It slid into the halfway disassembled pipe and reached down. Closing his eyes, Shikamaru concentrated his inner senses until his shadow hand successfully grabbed the object inside and after two vain tries, managed to pull out the certain something. He efforts were awarded by the sound of quickly flowing water and Temari's smirk. Oh, and by a clew of wet blonde hair in his third hand.

"For all sakes, Temari, did you wash your hair in sink?!" he exclaimed.

She colored instantly and pouted, "Just once! And that's no big deal, you know."

He stood, shrugging and simultaneously dropping the clew into garbage can. "One time is more than enough, as you can see."

Blonde stiffed and pointed at him her thin and long finger, "I'm a big girl, you know, there's no need to lecture me, Crybaby!" Ah, as reasonable as ever. Who cared, that she was the one who asked for his help for first place?

Biting her lip in annoyance, Temari moved to stand up from her snug place, but slipped on the puddle of water - he barely managed to catch her from fully falling, but hadn't prevented her heel from hitting the wall of the bath with a disturbingly loud sound. He could feel her teeth gritting against his chest from pain.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, trying then to lift her chin proudly, which was slightly less impressive since she was situated somewhere near his armpit.

"Sure, and pigs can fly. Sit down; I will examine your heel."

She shook her head stubbornly, "No need to care. It's probably just small bruise."

Shikamaru sighed, "We are not on battlefield now, Temari; you can afford to let yourself be pampered."

Her expression remained malcontented, but he could feel her starting to relax. She let him sit her down on the edge of bath.

"So, will you be the one pampering me?"

"I am already the one always pampering you," He muttered, kneeling opposite of her, instantly becoming aware of boldness of his statement. Trying to prevent himself from blushing and preventing her from asking awkward questions, he took her delicately small foot in his hands to observe it, and was ready to ask where it was hurting when she suddenly whimpered pleasantly.

His eyes flew to hers immediately.

Temari, who was capable of leveling a Konohan-sized forest in one swift motion, who was capable of killing A-rank criminals with her fan – and slightly less skilled opponents without it, who could bear almost mortal wounds without mere sound or pained gesture, had just _whimpered_. Like a little girl.

He stared in bewilderment into her eyes, unable to avert his gaze.

He _could_ resist the sudden urges of heat and uneasiness when she was around.

He _could_ suppress the recurring dreams about random parts of her body, or about the whole said body.

He _could_ ignore the frequent thoughts about her, which seemed to appear into his head by their own desire without notice.

Her vulnerable whimper, though, he_ could not_ resist.

He used to dream about taking her slowly, patiently, tasting and caressing each part of her – like that scar on her neck, eternal memory of one of her first genin missions, or the inner side of her wrist, way too tender for trained ninja. He dreamed of gradually removing her clothes, accompanying it by long kisses here and there. He dreamed about making her _his_. But right now he didn't want to remember his dreams, he would rather think about tearing off her clothes, quickly, and ravishing her until she would whimper again. He could feel his teeth starting to itch almost painfully, even starting to imagine how this self-aware, strong, hard-core woman could melt in his hands.

Truth be told, Temari was beyond troublesome. She made his life far too complicated and that was just by existing; not to mention the constant insults, arguments, demands, practical jokes, and God knows what else. The most _logical_ choice would be to stay as far away from her as he could.

Logic could go to hell.

Pulling slightly at her waist with his free hand to bring her closer, Shikamaru gave in to temptation and kissed her.

Kissing her was intoxicating, _she_ was intoxicating, and he felt himself drowning, losing sense of reality for a moment.

Pulling away, he saw her smiling, pleasantly reddened lips pulled into a teasing smile, "Was that some kind of medical jutsu?"

Damn woman, she was going to be death of him someday. Nevertheless, here she was, smiling at him, not only with her lips, but also with her eyes, with her shining face, and he couldn't help but smile in response. "Tsunade and Sakura are both green with jealousy. They wish they could have my skills."

She tilted her head on shoulder seductively. "It still hurts a little."

Their lips connected again, but now it was more firm, more confident. Her lips were demanding, wanting more, promising more, and he was more than willing to comply. He could feel her fingers tangling into his hair, and his hands on her waist, pushing her towards him.

Suddenly she stopped and smirked, "That was really odd first kiss. In bathroom, amidst parts of destroyed sink…"

And almost nonexistent parts of the certain someone's red lingerie. Yep, really odd. He hoped, that his smirk wasn't looking too carnivorous. "I'm not looking forward for you receiving any more_ first_ kisses, so you better start appreciate this one."

She quirked an eyebrow and twisted a lock of his hair around her finger, "Oh, really?"

"Besides," He stood and lifted her onto his arms lightly, "We can easily add some romantic.."

"You know, sometimes I'm starting to like your theory."

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A/N: There's a lot of plot about Temari and Shikamaru in my head, but most of time I'm just too busy (or lazy) to glue myself to the chair and work it out properly. The main impact to start writing this story was a certain fic about Shikamaru and Naruto, which I had found accidentally. In this fic, Naruto had been knocked up by Shikamaru. Moreover, Sasuke was pregnant with Gaara's children. Petrified and laughing to the point of insanity, I immediately started writing.


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